The Predator's iPod
by Myrrh23
Summary: A Yautja on the Hunt gets assailed by awful music, but ultimately achieves a victory of a different sort: the musical triumph of the Yautja Race! I don't own the Predator Franchose, but Ni'kats'el is MY Yautja! I'm so proud of him! Criticisms welcome!
1. Chapter 1

The Predator's IPod

Chapter 1

"_Do you really want to huuurt meee….? Do you really want to make me cryyyy?"_

Ni'kats'el crouched invisibly on the edge of the building roof and cringed. Setting up a hunting perch right across a karaoke bar on a cool Friday night might prove to be a less-than-wise decision, the Blooded Hunter thought with a low growl.

The young Predator continued to watch the _Ooman_ gathering place from his concealed spot across the street, tolerating the awful yowling coming from within the building in search of hotheaded patrons with enough alcoholic lucidity to be made a worthy skull with which to take home. This entertainment club was indeed busy tonight, with small groups of three or four standing outside to smoke fire-sticks and chitter to one another. Ni'kats'el could clearly hear with his advanced ears the laughing and hollering going on inside the establishment, with an occasional crash and bellow.

_Tonight might still be profitable, _he thought.

Ni'kats'el mused at the purpose of the building he was watching. So, _oomans_ were willing to give up their time-earned money to hear each other sing? And perhaps there was much _c'ntlip _provided for them to cover their embarrassment at having offered something of value should they abhor the singing. Too bad there was no such blessing for _him_ tonight.

"_Precious kisses, words that burn meeee…"_

_**Gods!**_ Not even a Hard Meat Face-Hugger would venture near the mouth of this annoying _Tar'nok,_ this village idiot! Ni'kats'el enjoyed exploring the cultures this blue and white planet had to offer, and found many of their rituals fascinating, but how was this little _Pauk-de _allowed to sully the otherwise pleasing _ooman_ practice of singing?

His kind had made it a point to study the habits of worthy prey, and since _oomans_ were such social animals, their cultural doings were made a priority. The only difficult thing about gathering such information was that _Ooman_ culture often changed, flowing with twists and turns like a great river, a fact that fascinated some of his fellow _Yautja_, for they admired this particular prey species for their mental capabilities.

However, referring to the unseen singer in the building across from him, Ni'kats'el found those mental capabilities could sometimes suffer the equivalent of a _Kainde Amedha_ acid attack!

The Predator heard more crashing around and shouting from inside. It was time to gain a better spying advantage, he thought-- to instinctually pick an opponent naturally disinclined to play by the club's rules. Running along the roof edge, Ni'kats'el was a blur as he leapt like an agile panther towards the roof of the Karaoke Bar, landing as silently as falling snow upon the gravel. A cool breeze from the east and sounds from the street below were the only things that disturbed the silent dark of the night as the Predator approached the glass skylight overlooking the stage and dance floor inside.

Crouching down to continue his sharp watch through infrared vision and switching off his camouflage, he clicked rapidly in curiosity at the mass gathering of dozens and dozens of partying _oomans_. A thermal scan of the crowd revealed that more than a few of the _ooman_ females were flashing much bare skin, and around so many males...

Ni'kats'el smirked behind his faceplate, designs of henna etched into the metal, with the Clan Symbol as the proud centerpiece.

It was almost completely dark down there, except for a few areas that were well lit. Scanning one of these areas, Ni'kats'el discovered a long, sealed off wooden altar near the building's entrance. A few _oomans_--two males and one female-- were busy mixing liquids, running to and from other _oomans_, like three panicked ants. His computer deciphered these liquids as being of alcoholic origin.

_There must be several embarrassed oomans here tonight! _Ni'kats'el bemused.

He saw that many of the partiers were holding lighted tubes and rings, which the Predator almost mistook for more fire sticks, which he knew the _oomans_ loved to suck on. A quick scan, however, revealed these florescent things to be something else. He would have to snag a couple to examine back at the waiting ship.

The other well-lit area was a raised platform of sorts, situated right in the middle of the hyper crowd. This was also were the bad singing was coming from, and the reactions of the crowd told Ni'kats'el they were feeling his pain!

"_Lovers never ask you whyyy…"_

The big Predator shook his shoulder-length dreads a little in disgust, the sounds of his hair beads clinking melodiously together a welcome distraction from the verbal wastage accosting his ears. To add a private emphasis to his disagreement with the irritating noise, the Hunter sharply swept an open clawed hand down the coppery brown and light-sand speckled skin of his forearm in a dismissive gesture towards the stage.

"_GET OFF THE STAAAGE, ASSHOLE!"_

"_YER GAAAAAY!!"_

"_They should have kept this place as a damn Rave, damnit!"_

The already worked-up crowd was beginning to show more of their irritation, with a few flinging their glowing tubes towards the singer.

Ni'kats'el now took special notice of the skinny _ooman_ on the stage, noting that he was as thin as a Xenomorph hatchling. The lad, with a good portion of his hair plopped in front of his face, swayed in place as he sang, oblivious to the hissing and obnoxious shouts from the crowd.

"_Do you really want to make me cryyyyyyyyy….?"_

The stealthy Hunter made a final wince, for although the song had clearly ended, the Xenomorph worm singing had added a lasting torturous dredge to it.

If these creatures he hunted could only hear the kind of music the _Yautja_ triumphed to, they would....

Suddenly, Ni'kats'el growled with pleasure, the sound rumbling deep in his throat. He brought himself to his full height of 7'7", turned and walked purposefully into the darkness. There would be no trophy for him tonight, save for the mischievous brilliance inside his mind, having worked its way to life.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The coolness of Friday night gave way to a slightly warmer Saturday morning. Chirping birds and a clear blue sky following the California dawn would have given solid promise of the coming warmth of the day, had anyone been awake enough to greet it. Had there been many people out and about, none would have batted an eye at the sudden jumpy burst of pigeons from their poop-spot on a building overlooking a certain street. Even if any half-asleep eyes had gazed up anyways, they certainly would have missed the iridescent blur jumping from the edges of the rooftops.

Ni'kats'el was tired, although the Predator could thank his Gods for the super-heated protection his mesh suit gave him from the wretched morning temperature of his earthly hunting grounds. Besides, he knew he had something he wanted to do. For him, the fact that oomans couldn't live in the sweltering climate his People favored was merely another reminder of their silly weaknesses. Even his pups back home could prosper in such heat! Still, the Hunter granted certain achievements to these creatures…

_Like giving me this rather easy opportunity to show them up! _the Predator wryly thought.

Ni'kats'el allowed himself a deep, rumbling purr. Tonight! Yes! Tonight would be _glorious_, like an altar offering to the sensual bonfire dances of his Homeworld!

Upon arriving at his destination, Ni'kats'el found the Karaoke parking lot empty and few cars on the streets. The big Hunter moved towards the now-dark skylight. Only the tiny sound of his strolling feet on the roof gravel gave a hint of his presence, and that sounded like birds pecking in the trees anyways!

Softly growling with pleasure at what he was up to, the Warrior crouched down before the padlocked metal foundation of the skylight. He had gone back for preparations to his waiting ship late last night, hidden away safely inside an immense abandoned train shaft at the edge of the city. From the careful deep-thermal mapping of ooman underground structures of the metropolis and secret explorations, the Yautja had found many such railway tunnels that had been built and lavished architecturally. After the San Francisco Earthquake of 1906 blocked many of the surface entrances, these tunnels had simply been…abandoned. _How fickle is mankind_, the Yautja Race had thought.

Keeping his invisibility on, Ni'kats'el stretched his hand out to the skylight's upper metal frame, and with the talon of his right index finger and his extremely acute hearing, simply unlocked the large padlock keeping thieves, trespassers, and mischievous Yautja out of the Club. Peeling back the triple glass paneling and looking around inside and out for security purposes, the big Predator leapt silently down from the roof to the dark dance floor below. The rays of the new day's rising sun barely gave its welcome through the tinted windows of the place. A quick infrared scan of his surroundings gave assurance to the Hunter that he was thoroughly alone. _Good_, thought the stealthy Predator.

Ni'kats'el, untroubled by the lack of light, made his way to the back of the large entertainment space to where the DJ sound system mixer and computers were. Even without the scanning system of his helmet, his eyes would have seen much better in the darkness than an ooman's. The evolutionary advantages of the night had given his predatory species extraordinary night vision over the millions of years his Kind had existed. However, Ni'kats'el did not use this superiority to become careless and take off his mask, only to leave it someplace if he happened to need both hands for this job. He knew well the consequences of leaving Yautja technology behind on a prey planet. There were always fools among the Yautja who made such mistakes and would end up facing Cetanu, the Black Warrior, in disgrace at their own executions. They served the worthy purpose of being a warning to other Yautja, though.

Turning on the computer in the airy darkness and establishing himself inside the computer file system, Ni'kats'el again found a purpose for the talon of his index finger. Opening his own computer on his wrist panel, the Predator tapped several points on its square faces. Immediately, a fluid substance as smooth and shiny as mercury flowed out of the front edge of the wrist panel, floating forward, forming itself into a tube and becoming a flexible metal on contact with the large amount of oxygen in the air. It wrapped itself like a living vine around the front of his talon, and stopped its flow after forming an outer rectangular plug. Growling again with pleasure, Ni'kats'el inserted the newly formed connection into the one of the left USB Connectors and downloaded the musical recording he had chosen for the coming evening's ooman festivities onto the other computer. Attaching a remote controlled beacon to the file and its encrypted sequences of code, he covered up the evidence of his meddling by renaming it as a grating Kid Rock song and shut down the computer.

Yes! Tonight would be _glorious_!


End file.
